Ravens And Doves
by cattail prophetess
Summary: The slashy adventures of Padma Patil.Padma meditates, only not really. Lisa becomes a bit more sympathetic, and the S.S. Firefly gets a nod. This is pretty bad, be prepared!
1. The Bed-Jumping Scene

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Although this fic does not yet include slash per se (that is, a romantic relationship between two people of the same sex), the main character is a lesbian (at this point it's fairly easy to ignore, though), so if you don't like slash you probably wouldn't like this either.   
  
Also, Padma belongs to J.K., although she is an annoyingly minor character. All of the good characters seem to be minor, actually. Eloise Midgen. Mrs. Lestrange. Seamus's mother. It's tragic.  
  
Summary of chapter: Mandy and Padma play a game of Dare, Truth, or Promise which, coincidentally, wakes up the whole House.  
  
Stupid note: I don't know if they play Truth or Dare in Britain. I once read a book (an f/f slashy book, coincidentally) that took place in Australia (I think) and the characters played Dare, Truth, or Promise. I thought that sounded slightly more British than Truth or Dare, so that's what I had them play.   
  
Other stupid note: yes, Terry is a boy. In SS/PS it says something about the Ravenclaws shaking hands with him as he joined them.  
  
Third stupid note: The definition of fancy is from Webster's New Universal Unabridged (read: heavy) Dictionary.  
  
Fourth stupid note: "Conked out" probably isn't an English term. So sue me.  
  
Fifth stupid note: If I sound really British, then I'm special, because I've never been there.  
  
Sixth stupid note: I'm having the Ravenclaw girls' beds be exactly like the Gryffindor boys' beds, only blue. However, the dormitories are arranged differently, which is why Terry was the first person not in her dormitory to hear Mandy jumping on the bed.   
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
"Dare," Mandy said, "truth, or promise."  
  
"Truth."  
  
"Who do you like?"  
  
She should have thought of that. Padma had opted for the easy out in this game since childhood, and since telling someone when she was born or what her underwear looked like seemed far preferable to climbing up on the roof of the house, her answer was always the same. Unfortunately, her friends seemed to be getting smarter.  
  
The raven in her brain (as she called it) began to whisper instructions. It was the real reason she was in the house she was; she could twist logic and literal meanings in any way she wanted to. She didn't say "love." She didn't say "like romantically." Who do you like? You like lots of boys.  
  
"Right," Padma said. "Terry."  
  
"Terry doesn't count."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Everyone likes Terry, or has, at some point."  
  
"You should have said that before."  
  
"Padma." This in an exasperated tone. Mandy put her head back on the pillow. "I'm going to sleep if you can't play properly."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Padma."  
  
"Mandy."  
  
"It's too early to go to sleep."  
  
"You were the one who wanted to go to sleep."  
  
"Oh, come on, Padma. Who d'you fancy?"  
  
Fancy. Verb. Second definition- to like; to be pleased with; to be fond of; as, he fancied   
her the first time they met. "I told you; I fancy Terry."  
  
"What about that French boy?"  
  
"Who, Pierre? He was all right."  
  
"All right? You met him all the time at Hogsmeade last year."  
  
"I said he was all right. Yeah, I like him. It's your turn. Dare truth or promise." And she had liked him, liked to be with him. She was fond of him. Unfortunately, Mandy was not referring to the dictionary definition of fancy. She was not asking whether Padma found Pierre amusing. Or interesting. Or fun to be with. She was asking if Padma had liked kissing him. It had been all right, she supposed, but Padma was smart enough to know that kissing a boy was supposed to be more than all right. If it wasn't, then there was something wrong with you.  
  
"Dare."  
  
Padma cast an amused glance around the room, looking for something truly horrible for Mandy to do. Once she'd forced her to swim ten laps in the bathtub, but the memory of Mandy's olive shoulders and dark hair against the deep green of her bathing suit still made her stomach clench uncomfortably. "Right. Er- jump on the bed until you wake Rag up."  
  
"Padma!"  
  
"You chose dare, you've got to keep it."  
  
"But the whole house will be up before she is. And she'll kill us!"   
  
"Kill you, you mean. I'm not going to jump on the bed." Morag MacDougal, however sensible she was during the sunny hours, was not a night person. She conked out at around eight or nine and couldn't be woken until seven, unless seven was still dark, in which case she couldn't be woken until eight. If anyone managed to wake her before seven, she spit acid.  
  
"You're going to die when it's your turn again."  
  
"I know," Padma said, snickering. "Do it."  
  
"Fine. Get off the bed."  
  
Padma obediently slipped off the end of Mandy's four-poster. When they were younger and having one of their midnight vigils, they used to lay next to each other, but Padma no longer felt she could do that. It was too... too close. Yes, that was it.  
  
Mandy very hesitantly started bouncing up and down on the bed. "Open her curtains, Padma. I don't want to do this a second longer than I have to."  
  
"You wouldn't have to do it at all if you hadn't chosen dare."  
  
"How was I to know you'd make me do this?"  
  
Padma looked at her levelly, trying very, very hard not to laugh. "Mandy, what kind of things do I usually make you do when you choose dare?"  
  
"Well... this kind of thing."  
  
Padma threw up her hands. "Then why do you always choose dare?" And with that she   
went over to open Morag's curtains.  
  
Mandy glared at her.  
  
"Jump."  
  
She started again. About three seconds later, the curtains of the fourth bed opened, and Lisa Turpin, looking sleepy but still speaking in a perfectly crisp, clear voice, said "What exactly would you two be doing?"  
  
Lisa was a bit of a mystery. She was a pale, bony girl with gray nearsighted eyes and thin black hair, and as far as Padma could tell, she had no friends, nor had she ever had. You would have expected her to be really good at school, loner that she was, but she wasn't that much better than the rest of their year. She always seemed, though, like she was thinking about something else, something she really cared about, which was really more important than anything else she could possibly come in contact with. Lisa was- Lisa was self-contained, Padma thought. Yes. That was what you'd call her.  
  
"Trying to wake up Rag," Mandy said without looking at her. "Padma, am I allowed to yell?"  
  
"No, you've got to jump."  
  
"I hate you, you know."  
  
"I know. I can't believe it even woke you up, Lisa. I was hoping she'd just keep jumping all night, while Rag slumbered on."  
  
"I wasn't asleep."  
  
Mandy glared at Padma and started jumping with more fervor.  
  
About five minutes later Terry Boot was banging on the door of the common room.   
  
"What d'you think you're doing?" he shouted, to Padma's great amusement. "Some of us are trying to sleep in here!"  
  
"It's not my fault!" Mandy said. "She dared me."  
  
"She chose dare," Padma told him.  
  
"Mandy, why did you choose 'dare' in the middle of the night?"  
  
"It isn't the middle of the night," Mandy said. "It's early. How was I supposed to know she was going to make me do this?"  
  
"You could have thought about it. You know Padma. Remember the time she made you swim all those laps in the bathtub?"  
  
Padma blushed and hoped no one was looking at her.  
  
"And it is too late. What is it, like midnight?"  
  
"Eleven-forty-six," Lisa said, putting on her glasses.  
  
"Eleven-forty-six's not late!" Mandy insisted, continuing to leap up and down.  
  
"Of course it's late! None of us were awake!"  
  
"Excuse me," said Roger Davies from the door, "but you know the whole team has to get up early to practice, and here you are making all this noise! I don't want to take points away from my own house, but-"  
  
"Stuff it, Roger," Mandy said, jumping.  
  
"I think he's right," Orla Quirke interrupted, also from the door. "I'm a very light sleeper you know. It isn't fair to deprive us of our rest, when some of us have more important things to do-"  
  
"It's Friday," Padma told her. "As in, no school tomorrow. Go away and leave us alone."  
  
"Look-" said Stewart Ackerly- "we shouldn't have to justify our reasons for needing sleep-"  
  
"Hurry up, Mandy, will you?" Padma snapped. "Wait just a minute, everyone, when Rag is up you can all go back to sleep."  
  
"Oh that's a relief," Ivan Moon muttered, glaring at her.  
  
"Will you shut up!" Terry said. "Just leave her to it, that's what you should do. The more noise you make the more you're-"  
  
"It's not Ivan's fault," Roger said. "You're being ridiculous."  
  
"Well, what do you propose we do? We can't exactly go to sleep."  
  
"You don't even have any reason to go to sleep. You don't play Quidditch and bring glory to your whole house."  
  
"It's not like you win or something," Terry informed him. "You and Ivan and everyone think you're better than the whole rest of the house because you play that stupid game-"  
A few minutes later, the group of ten or so people standing outside the fifth-year dorm was chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" They were having such a good time chanting that they forgot why they were there in the first place, but this didn't bother Padma, who really wanted nothing more than to have Mandy jump on the bed all night. That would really be something to laugh about. Besides, maybe her nightgown would fly up.  
  
Suddenly they were interrupted by a rather bloodthirsty-sounding voice. "Who woke me up?" said the voice.  
  
Everyone tore their eyes away from the sight of Terry and Roger and looked at the fourth bed in the dormitory. Emerging from under many blankets and sheets was the figure of Morag MacDougal. "Who woke me up?" she asked again.  
  
Suddenly Terry, Roger, Padma, Lisa, and Mandy were the only ones left in the dormitory.   
  
"It was Mandy," Padma explained as Terry got up and limped away.  
  
"But Padma told me to do it," Mandy countered as Roger moved all his fingers carefully to make sure none were broken.  
  
"But she chose dare."  
  
"Right," Morag said. "Mandy, I'll see you in the morning." With this, she crawled back under the covers and went back to sleep.   
  
Mandy shivered. "I hate you, Padma. And it's your turn now. Dare truth or promise?"  
  
"What d'you mean? You're not done."  
  
"You're going nutters, Padma. Of course I'm done."  
  
"No you're not. I said no yelling could wake her up. She didn't wake up because you jumped on the bed. She woke up because everyone was yelling at Roger and Terry."  
  
"You didn't say that."  
  
"Did."  
  
"Didn't."  
  
"Did."  
  
"Didn't."  
  
"Did."  
  
"Didn't."  
  
"Did."  
  
"I think," Lisa interrupted. Both of them stared at her. "Mandy, you said 'Am I allowed   
to yell?' and Padma, you said 'No, you've got to jump.' Mandy didn't yell."  
  
"Thank you, Lisa," Mandy said. "Dare truth or promise, Padma?"  
  
"I don't want to play any longer. It's midnight now, isn't it Lisa?"  
  
"Twelve-thirteen."  
  
"You can't get out of it this easily."  
  
"I'm not trying to get out of it, I'm just tired."  
  
"Well, I'm not." Mandy yawned. She had nice teeth, Padma thought. "Okay, maybe a   
little. But I will get you back, you know."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Good night, Padma."  
  
"Good night."  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++The end. Or is it?  
  
No, it is not. But it is the end of Chapter One. So you should review, like nice fanfiction readers. Also, if you flame me for having slashy hints, can you please include in your flame the reason you read a story which you were told contained homosexuality? It rather confuses me. 


	2. In Which Padma Acts Out

And here we are with Chapter Two of the ficcy. (Question: is "ficcy" a synonym for "fic" or does it mean something completely different? Because I meant "fic." Also, if the words "something completely different" made you giggle, you should go read MST Marauder Style: The Return and The Dead Seeker Sketch. And eat some spam.) As I said before, this is not slash, but it has slashy hints, and probably a bit more than last time.   
  
Summary: Padma acts like a brat.   
  
First stupid note: I stole the idea of someone who had to read books getting someone else to read them and tell her about it from the book A Little Princess, and from a lot of really annoying people who go to the AOL book discussion boards and tell us they need to finish a report, so could we please summarize the book for them?  
  
Second stupid note: Probably didn't use the right word for Laundromat.  
  
Third stupid note: Or fast-food.  
  
Fourth stupid note: Or bill.  
  
Fifth stupid note: I'm giving up the whole British thing. ValleyGirl!Lavendar is just too much fun. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
"But honestly," Mandy said in the library the next morning, "my parents're insane. They think 'cos I don't know Shakespeare I'm going to work in a McDonald's when I grow up."  
  
"What's a McDonald's?" asked Padma. She liked hearing about Mandy's family, but a lot of the things Mandy told her about them made absolutely no sense. Last week she'd had to listen to a long speech about something called a Laundromat and how her mother was upset because it had made her clothes turn gray.  
  
"A fast-food resturant."  
  
"What's fast-food?" Padma was getting a bit annoyed now; she didn't like being made to feel stupid just because she wasn't Muggle-born.   
  
"Food that's- you know, made quickly, so you don't have to wait to get the bill. Honestly, Padma, it's amazing the stuff you don't know."  
  
Padma wanted very much to ask "What's a bill?" and she wanted even more to touch Mandy's hair, which was tied up in a thick silky ponyail, but she was angry at herself for both of those things, so, as she usually did when she was angry at herself, she pretended to be angry at someone else. "Look, Mandy," she spat, "you're the one who doesn't know- a lot of stuff. You're the one who won't read the books your parents send you and make me do it instead. You're the one who is always driving Rag and me crazy asking questions about the magical world. You're the one"- who doesn't know I'm in love with you- "who's a Mudblood."  
  
Mandy's blue eyes filled with tears, and Padma wanted to wipe them away, so she said "And you're a baby, too. You should have been put in Hufflepuff."  
  
"Padma, what's your problem? What do you want?"  
  
To kiss you. "I want you to stop being such a twit. I want you to stop bothering me all the time. I want to- Mandy, I want to be alone, okay?"  
  
"Fine," Mandy said, wiping her eyes as though the salty tears were acid. "Fine. Go away then, why don't you."  
  
Padma immediately felt horrid. "Mandy, I'm-"  
  
"I said, go away. That's what you wanted."  
  
"But-"   
  
"Go away."  
  
Padma got up from the table they had been sitting at, picked up her bag, considered putting Padma's Shakespeare books in it, decided against it, and began to walk randomly through the bookcases, muttering at herself. Had anyone been watching, they would have thought she was either insane or the friend of someone with an Invisibility Cloak.  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Mandy rarely became angry at anyone or anything, and when she did, she was more cold than fierce. A week later she still hadn't spoken a word to Padma, with the exception of "You forgot to put the Salamander tail in our potion," and "Was there any Transfiguration homework?" which, somehow, made it more painful than if she had been entirely silent. Worse, she'd told all of her friends exactly why she and Padma were quarreling (not that she'd done it to be spiteful; they asked), and Mandy's friends and Padma's friends happened to be almost exactly the same group of people. So anyone she could have turned to for solace was also equally displeased with her.  
  
"Look- I've always known you're from a very... good family," Ivan told her one afternoon shortly after the fight. "That you're very rich and pure-blood and all. But Padma- I never thought you cared about that kind of thing. I mean, Parvati's kind of shallow, I wouldn't put it past her- but you. You seemed so nice. I can't believe you'd say something like that to Mandy. And- my dad's half-Muggle, and I don't think I can be friends with someone who feels that way about them."  
  
Like most Ravenclaws, Padma was very adept at burying herself in schoolwork or novels when her life wasn't going the way she wanted. Unfortunately, she couldn't do it forever. The only way to get out of her current friendless situation would be to confront Mandy and apologize. She'd explain why she said it, and-  
  
Wait. That couldn't be the only way.  
  
Maybe she could talk to Parvati. Despite her overall idiocy, Padma's sister had a bit of a sixth sense as far as interpersonal relationships were concerned. Right. She'd lower her pride, and- it made her gag just to think of asking Parvati for help. But it was the only alternative.  
  
"But anyway- he was being an idiot, for crying out loud, like, I deserve some respect, don't I? I'm not just some airhead."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"And that's all really. It was just- honestly."  
  
"See, that's the problem with boys these days. They're just naff. They just don't appreciate girls who are beautiful, and nice, and smart, like you, Lav."  
  
Padma suppressed a snort.  
  
"So you just go and tell old Seam to stick it up his- what're you doing here, Pad?"  
  
Padma hated her sister's habit of referring to everyone by the first syllable of their name, but she was going to have to resist the urge to whack Parvati on the head with one of her many hair ornaments if she wanted to get any advice. "I wanted to ask you something," she said as nicely as possible.  
  
Parvati seemed thrilled. "Ooh, really, Pad? What is it? Guy trouble? You heard what I was telling Lav-"  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
Parvati visibly drooped.  
  
"It's- I said something mean to Mandy, and now she won't talk to me."  
  
Parvati perked up again. "All right, Pad, we'll have you too fixed up in no time."  
  
"So? What do I do?"  
  
"I've got to think on that. See you two." Parvati rushed off.  
  
"Why'd she have to leave?" Padma asked.  
  
Lavendar beamed at her. "I dunno, but she's, like, so going to help you, Pad. Parv's great at that kind of thing. Once she told me my tan wasn't dark enough- but she was so sweet about it I just had to forgive her. Don't you just love her, Pad?"  
  
"My-name-is-not-Pad," muttered Padma through gritted teeth. "It's-Padma."  
  
Lavendar patted Padma's hunched shoulder. "Nicknames are fun, Pad! You Ravenclaws are just so... so... serious! Like Herm!"  
  
Padma shuddered and moved away.   
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "Guess what?" Parvati screeched to her the next day at breakfast.  
  
"What?" Padma said wearily.  
  
"I fixed up the problem with you and Mand!"  
  
"Oh, that's wonderful, Parvati. Thank you. How'd you do it?"  
  
"I went to talk to her!"  
  
"And she listened to you?" Mandy didn't even know Parvati very well. Unless- no, that was too horrible to even consider. "Parvati, you didn't-"  
  
"I pretended to be you. I told her I was so, so sorry, that I'd been an idiot, and I was never going to say anything like that again, that she had absolutely fantastic hair-"  
  
"Her hair? You thought she was upset because I insulted her hair?"  
  
Parvati appeared confused. "Well, what else would she have been upset about?"  
  
"Parvati," Padma hissed, "I called her a Mudblood."  
  
Her sister gasped. "Pad, that's horrible. I can't believe you did that. They're not any different from us, Muggle-borns. Except they're really sexy- like Dean Thomas. You ever seen Dean Thomas?"  
  
"Yes, Parvati, I am aware that Muggle-borns are sexy. In fact, if I wasn't, I wouldn't be having this problem right now," Padma spat, then stood up and left.  
  
"Gee, Lav," Parvati said, "I don't know what she means. Do you?"  
  
"No," Lavendar replied solemnly. "Maybe, like, she and Mand fought over some hot Muggle-born boy, or something. You think?"  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ After the Parvati incident, Padma found that some of her friends were much nicer to her, but her happiness diminished when she realized that they were worried about her sanity. It was sweet that they cared, of course, but she was getting a bit tired of Morag asking her if she could remember the way to the common room or Terry attempting to do her History of Magic homework for her ("We don't want to push her over the brink, Rag," she heard him say seriously one night, "and Binns's essays could do that, no question"). She found herself beginning to avoid them, instead of the other way around.  
  
About two weeks after the trouble started, Padma found herself sitting in Hagrid's hut, receiving a lecture on just how bad her Care of Magical Creatures grades were. "Patil," he said, "It's not that yeh don't try. I'm sure yeh do. Some people just aren't good with animals, and there's really not much yeh can do about that except try not teh have teh spend too much time with 'em. If yeh want I can get yeh permission from the headmaster to take a different class..."  
  
Arithmancy, Padma thought, always sounded fascinating. She should have taken it instead. In fact... no. Her Ravenclaw pride would not allow her to drop a class just because she was horrid at it. She'd try harder, that was it. "I can't... I mean, I don't want to change classes. I'm sure if I really apply myself I-"  
  
"Patil, I had a student like yeh last year, and he wanted to stay in my class, so I let him. Yeh know what happened?"  
  
Padma swallowed. "What?"  
  
"He tried to pick up a Blast-Ended Screwt and ended up losin' a finger."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"So yer best bet is really teh leave. If yeh really don't want teh we could set up some   
tutoring."  
  
"Tutoring?"  
  
"Tutoring. Yeh could get Hermione Granger teh do it, in Gryffindor- or Lisa Terpin, since she's in yer house... they're top in yer year..."  
  
"Right, okay," Padma muttered. "I'll do that."  
  
"Yeh sure? It's not gonna be easy, trust me..."  
  
"No, no, I'll do it. Thanks." Padma might be having a bad month, but she was certainly not going to leave a class. Padma did not leave classes. Besides, the work would be quite consuming, she was sure of that, and she needed some distraction.  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Okay, that was bad, and lame, and short, and took forever, but... hey, maybe I'll get flamed!  
I always wanted to get flamed, you see. Goodbye. 


	3. Half-Bloods Are Scary

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
What, no flames? ::cries:: Please! I will fall madly in love with any flamers! (Of course, considering most people on ff.net are girls, and most flamers are homophobes, they might not want me to fall madly in love with them...) Maybe I should up the action, have Padma sexually assault Mandy or something- then *someone* would flame me. ::thinks:: Erm... no.  
  
Ookay, Hagrid belongs to Lisa who belongs to Padma who belongs to Mandy who belongs to Terry who belongs to Ivan who belongs to Morag who belongs to someone else, and they and everyone not mentioned all belong to the great and mighty JKR.  
  
::bows to JKR:: Please don't hurt me!  
  
JKR: I will not hurt you, grasshopper.  
  
Me: I am no grasshopper! I am a slasher!  
  
JKR: Ah, so you are. And so am I, or at least I am if you believe 'How I Suppressed My Inner Slasher.'  
  
Me: You're supposed to be amusing the readers, not plugging fics that I didn't write!  
  
JKR: Sorry. Okay, kids, this is slash. Not big, bad, yicky slash, just a girl with a crush on her ex-best friend, who also happens to be a girl. ::drifts off:: Slash is nice. And Neil likes slash too!  
  
Me: Oh, your husband, right?  
  
JKR: Yes! Also, this is not me, I did not actually say these things unless I did, in which case the author did not mean to say that she made them up, and I never told Elysa Mental anything, and she stole the idea of having a conversation with me from Emerald Rose, another slasher, who has also done her disclaimers in this amusing way. 'Kay?  
  
Me: 'Kay! And I have a funny quote, from A Late Night Conversation by Eloria, which amused me because it reminded me of this fic. And it's not mine. Idiot.  
  
""You ever, you know?" He arched a brow and Draco laughed.  
  
"No! When would I have the time? And who with!"  
  
"Well, there's always those rumors about some of the Ravenclaws, and-"  
  
"Wait! What rumors?" Draco asked inquisitively, sitting up a little. Goyle immediately claimed the surrendered space with his sprawling form.  
  
"Haven't you heard?" Vincent demanded. "Two 6th years were caught, in the library, smooching!"  
  
"Two guys?" he exclaimed.  
  
"No, two girls! I think one was Padma or something like that.""  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Excuse me," Padma said to Lisa in the library the next day. Lisa neglected to look up from her book.  
  
"*Excuse me*," said Padma, in a much louder voice. Madam Pince glared at her and muttered something obscene, but Lisa didn't move.  
  
"Hello?" Padma said.  
  
Lisa said, very quietly, and without lifting her head from the book, "My mum is dead because of people like you and I don't want to speak to you again, not that I ever did before."  
  
"Er?" Padma quavered.  
  
"Muggle, she was," Lisa whispered. "Killed by former Death Eaters for a laugh when I was five. Not that you'd care- suppose you support that sort of thing, with what you said to Mandy Brocklehurst."  
  
"*Oh*," Padma said, enlightenment finally dawning. "Look, Lisa- that isn't what it was about-"  
  
"Oh, right, then," Lisa said, finally meeting Padma's eyes- her own were oddly jolting behind the spectacles- "What was it about then?"  
  
"It was- I-" Padma cut herself off. "Look, it was nothing. I was just really upset that day and I took it out on her." She couldn't believe she'd almost told the other girl why she'd snapped at Mandy. She had to be more careful, really.  
  
"Yes, those Muggles and Mudbloods are always there when you need to blow off some steam, aren't they?" Lisa returned to her book. "Kill them, rape them, call them nasty names- just a lovely way to get out your anger."  
  
"Look, that *isn't what I meant*!" Padma shouted, quite a bit louder than she'd meant too. "It wasn't like that, all right? I was really upset about *her*- there was something I couldn't tell her!"  
  
Madam Pince started toward her, eyes glowing red.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++After being banned from the library for the rest of the year, Padma realized that she still had to go talk to Lisa about the tutoring. She was not, of course, going to Granger. She had taken their House's one glory, and all the Ravenclaws hated her with a passion.  
  
Although it was going to be rather hard to get Care of Magical Creatures help from a half-blood who thought she hated Muggles. Not to mention the fact that they wouldn't be able to study in the library. Maybe she should just give up...  
  
No. She was a Ravenclaw, and if Lisa thought being kicked out of the library and accused of liking to murder Muggles was going to keep her from getting good grades, she just didn't know Padma Sapienta Patil.  
  
That sounded good. She repeated it out loud. "She just didn't know Padma Sapienta Patil!"  
  
Terry tapped her on the shoulder. "Padma, lovey? You all right?"  
  
"All right?" Padma said. "Why wouldn't I be all right?"  
  
"Because you're shouting about yourself in the third person past tense, and there's no one else in the room. D'you want me to do your History of Magic for you again?"  
  
"No, Terry. I do not."  
  
Terry looked mildly worried.  
  
"By the way, d'you know where Lisa is?"  
  
"Lisa? Oh, you mean Lisa Turpin? In our year?"  
  
Padma hoped she never got that anonymous.  
  
"I think I saw her heading to the Great Hall."  
  
"Thank you, Terry. And don't call me lovey."  
  
He shrugged and walked off, calling "And don't forget to ask me if you need any help with History of Magic!"  
  
Padma turned and went toward the Great Hall, wondering what Lisa could possibly be doing there this late.  
  
"Padma, wait! The common room is that way!" cried Morag.  
  
"I'm going to the Great Hall."  
  
"Dinner was an hour ago!"  
  
"I know!"  
  
"Padma, if you ever need to talk to me about anything-"  
  
"Go away!"  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Lisa was sitting at the Ravenclaw table when Padma came in, just staring into space. Maybe she liked to do that and only could when the Great Hall was empty, Padma hypothesized. Poor thing. Maybe *she* was the one who shouldn't have to do Binns's essays.  
  
"Excuse me?" Padma said.  
  
Lisa jerked and looked up, and Padma thought she saw a glistening of something in her eye, although she couldn't tell whether it was moonlight or tears. "You can get arrested for stalking people, you know, Patil!"  
  
"I'm *not* stalking you, Lisa. Really!"  
  
Lisa glared. "Then what are you here for?"  
  
"Well, actually I'm failing Care of Magical Creatures and Hagrid told me I had to go to you- or Granger- or drop it-"  
  
"Drop it then, why don't you, and take up Muggle Studies- if you can bear it. Or- yes- why don't you go to Granger? You should be in Slytherin anyway, so you might as well not even try acting like a Ravenclaw. No, wait, she's a Mudblood, so you won't want to go to her. I suppose that's why you're here- at least I'm not *that* tainted!"  
  
"Lisa!" Padma yelled. Her yell echoed very spookily, and both of them jumped. "I-don't-hate-Muggles, all right? And even if I did, you'll probably get extra credit for tutoring me or something. And *you're* the one who should be in Slytherin- at least *I* don't call everyone by their last name!"  
  
"I don't *need* the extra credit, Patil."  
  
"But you *want* it, don't you?" *Remember, Padma, she's a Ravenclaw just like you. Well, maybe not /just/ like you, but you get my drift.*  
  
Lisa sighed, looking at her hands. "Fine. I'll tutor you. Meet me in the library tomorrow."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Oh, you *can't*, can't you? Can't even go out of your way for a half- breed, can you?"  
  
"Lisa, I'm banned from the library."  
  
"All right then, the common room. If you must."  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Right."  
  
"Right."  
  
They sat there staring at each other from their respective armchairs.  
  
"Do you even *know* what we're studying?"  
  
"Antipedian Opaleyes."  
  
"You've got to keep the magical world safe from us but you haven't even got the intelligence to know the names of the creatures. It isn't Antipedian Opaleye, it's *Antipodean Opaleye.*"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"You should be. They're considered the most beautiful type of dragon and they hardly ever eat people. Actually, I'm a bit surprised Professor Hagrid even had us read about them- they're not bloodthirsty at all, really. Just eat sheep, majorly."  
  
Padma snickered under her breath. "Maybe he didn't know when he chose them."  
  
"I doubt that greatly," Lisa said. "Just because someone's a half-giant doesn't mean they're stupid. In fact, some of us half-breeds know just a *bit* more than the rest of you."  
  
Padma sighed. It was going to be a *long* night.  
  
"And I suppose you don't know the other dragons we're studying as soon as we finish with the Opaleyes?"  
  
"Erm. Chinese Fireball, right?"  
  
"That one was in the Tournament, don't try to cheat."  
  
"I *wasn't*." This, Padma realized, must be how Gryffindors felt around Professor Snape.  
  
"Stop stalling."  
  
Padma sighed again.  
  
"Sighing won't help you if you don't know the answers."  
  
"All right, all right- I don't know any others, although I probably did before you started bullying me."  
  
"Ah, getting just a *taste* of your own medicine, are you, full-blood?"  
  
"Look, are you helping me or not?"  
  
"Fine. Fine, I'll help you." Lisa began to sing. "The dragons are the Common Welsh Green, which roars musically and is happy when sheep are near, the Hebridian Black, which has purple eyes and likes to eat deer, the Hungarian Horntail, which has bronze horns and is happy when humans are near, the Norwegian Ridgeback, which is rare and can breathe fire at a quarter of a year, the Peruvian Vipertooth, which flies fast and without fear, the Romanian Longhorn, which may soon disappear, the Swedish Short- Snout, which you will not find here, and the Ukrainian Ironbelly, which is heavy and treats people like beer."  
  
Padma stared. "Why are you singing?"  
  
"Because it's a song."  
  
"There's a song about dragons?"  
  
"I made it up."  
  
"When?"  
  
"When I was four."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because my mother couldn't remember the different dragons."  
  
"Oh." Padma squirmed a bit. "Er, I'm sorry. That your mum died."  
  
"She didn't *die*," Lisa said. "She was *murdered*."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"You should be."  
  
"What about we go up to bed and leave the studying till tomorrow?"  
  
"Excellent idea. You're not so stupid after all."  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Oookay, that was short again, but I don't *think* it was quite as bad as the last chapter. I meant to make Lisa really angsty and sad, but instead I made her like the guy in Rush Hour 2 when he's trying to distract the people at the casino- you know, where he starts going "You gave me a five thousand dollar chip because *you* thought a black guy wouldn't be able to pay!" I prefer her like this, though- much funnier.  
  
Right. I took Padma's middle name from the word "sapient," which means "wise" or "smart." I took all the dragons' names from my trusty copy of Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them.  
  
And now for a word from our sponsor (a.k.a. me):  
  
When I did not yet have a userID on ff.net, I longed for people to know who I was, and I loved it when people whose stories I had reviewed put my name in their author's notes. And now I am being cruel and hypocritical, and not replying to people's reviews at all. ::shrugs:: So here I go...  
  
Lapucia- You should have flamed me. If you like stories about Padma and Parvati you should go read Parvati, You Ditz! and Parvati's Song (oh, God, sooo funny!). Or Only, if you're into twincest, which I'm not- it majorly squicked me.  
  
Me- You should have flamed me. Isn't 'Me' the name of most flamers? But you did not flame me. ::frowns and shakes finger:: And there *is* more- this is it.  
  
black no. 1- You should have flamed me. I review much more badly than you- I tend to just say "Liked it," and leave it at that... Also, did you know that a really cool source of caffeine is Cappuchino Chip ice cream, found at an obscure little place in Truro, Cape Cod? Once I had it and stayed up till two in the morning- too bad the shop closed for the winter and is nowhere near me or I could have it in the morning.  
  
Kimagure- You should have flamed me, because- ::bursts into tears:: I'm not worthy of your greatness! You- you wrote Spider Webs and Mischief, didn't you? And you- you said my fic was *cute*! ::cries really hard:: I'm-not- worthy!  
  
Roise Noix- You should have flamed me. And Padma *is* entertaining, so there, even if she *was* mean to Ron! (I always think I'm at Sugarquill.)  
  
Normandie M- You should have flamed me. But thanks.  
  
Calypso- You should have flamed me. Thank you for being the person by whose link I discovered FictionAlleyPark. I hate the title; you are kind.  
  
T- You should have flamed me. Don't fall off your Ravenclaw bed!  
  
Dala- Why didn't you flame me? I *like* being flamed! I've always *wanted* to be flamed! ::cries:: Thank you for reviewing my story, though... ::considers saying "long live the sacred alliance" but will feel stupid if she does:: 


	4. Spilt Milk And Chocolate Frogs

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Slashy, as usual. JK's, as usual. What else could it possibly be?  
  
Also, I've decided I should say when my stories are happening. This chapter begins around 12/20, Harry's 5th year.  
  
Thank you to various people at FictionAlleyPark for helping me figure out what religion Padma was and how it worked and stuff. Especially Madhuri.  
  
And the line "Why am I surrounded by incompetent fools?" is from the movie /Merlin/. It's probably my favorite movie line ever, with the possible exception of "It's not that I'm a lesbian... it's just that all of the people I've been attracted to have been girls" in my beloved /Election/. Oooh, yeah, and "I'm big, you're small, I'm right, you're wrong, and there's nothing you can do about it" in /Matilda/. And Ron's "brilliant, but scary line" which shone like the moon in a movie with /way/ too much H/H subtext. And-  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Padma got a letter the next morning at breakfast. After skimming it over, she cried out and let her head fall onto the table, making a loud thump. Taking this as a sign of self-destructive tendencies, Morag hugged her and said   
"It's okay, sweet, it's okay."  
  
Padma, who would have enjoyed it had Morag been her type, jerked away and said "No, it's *not*. My parents actually said that... Lavendar... could come to our house for the winter holidays. They just wrote to tell me."  
  
"And how do you feel about that?" Terry said soothingly, as Lisa muttered "Imagine sharing your *house* with a Mudblood! I'd just *die*!"  
  
"Look!" Padma pointed over to the Gryffindor tables, where Parvati and Lavendar were enchanting their lip gloss to flash different colors. "Look at them, Lisa. Would you want *them* to come to your house? Both of them? At the same time?"  
  
Lisa examined Parvati and Lavendar seriously.  
  
"You don't know what it's like, Lisa. Eventually you don't even remember your name- just the first syllable. You might even put blond highlights in your hair. That's what Parvati and Lavendar can do to you- in *small* doses."  
  
Lisa stuffed an omelet in her mouth so as not to be caught laughing at "the full-blood."  
  
Terry patted her arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, maybe you can stay at Hogwarts."  
  
"But my mother says it's ethnocentric and prejudiced to make everyone celebrate Christmas and we should all stay home and teach them the error of their ways. She's quite sensitive about that sort of thing, you know."  
  
"You said there weren't any Hindu holidays around Christmas. At least not that you celebrate."  
  
"She says that's not the point. She thinks it's ethnocentric and prejudiced to make everyone celebrate Christmas and we should all stay home and teach them the error of their ways. She's quite sensitive about that sort of thing, you know."  
  
From out of the corner of her eye, Padma thought she saw Lisa look vaguely impressed.  
  
"What I really need," she mused out loud, "is an excuse. Lisa, are you staying for the holidays?"  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Padma was sitting by the lake (an immunity to cold had always seemed a useful thing to develop) when a first-year bounced up and cried "'Lo, Patil! I hope you're grateful."  
  
She squinted up at the boy, who was clothed in a robe so old he had to wear Muggle jeans under it to keep from being indecent. "I think you've got the wrong Patil," she said. "Did Parvati give you some of her infamous advice on girls?"  
  
"Thank the Lord, no," he said, sounding much too confident for a first-year. "Isn't she the one who says you're supposed to tell the girl how you *feel* about her? And ask her before you kiss her?"  
  
Padma shuddered. "Yes."  
  
"I have enough sense not to try that. Anyway, I'm referring to the fact that I've taken pity on you and decided to spend Christmas here, which, when one is blessed with an obsessively overprotective older sibling, may result in said older sibling spending Christmas here as well, which, to those whose mere sanity depends on this-" he pointed at Padma- "may be a beneficial occasion indeed."  
  
Padma blinked. Then she smiled. Then she hugged the first-year and almost pushed him into the lake.   
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ /I might not have minded staying for the holidays so much/, Padma thought on the first day of vacation, alone in the common room, /if I'd still been friends with Mandy./ They would have relished the time without work, explored forgotten corridors, looked for secret rooms. That was the kind of thing they'd done all the time, before. Although, she had to admit, their friendship hadn't been as fun in the last year or so. It had been much easier when they were just little girls, free from any of the complications of hormones and puberty.  
  
But there was no use crying over spilt milk, really. Who cared that Padma had to share the dormitory with two people who couldn't bear her? Who cared that she didn't have anyone to talk to anymore? Who cared that-  
  
Now that she thought about it, it was quite horrible when you spilled milk. Sometimes it went down your robes, staining them and making them horribly smelly. Padma started to cry.  
  
"Patil?"  
  
Padma willed herself to stop crying, but it didn't work. She looked up at Lisa Turpin who, through a haze of salt water, appeared almost ethereal, which of course she was anything but. Padma tried not to notice this, while Lisa tried equally hard not to notice that Padma really looked quite ethereal herself, all those unheeded tears running down her face. She never /had/ been one to wipe them off.  
  
"You okay?" Lisa looked very uncomfortable, as if she might be carted off to Azkaban for displaying pity towards Patil.  
  
"Yes," Padma said, lying very obviously. They were still flowing.  
  
"Look, why don't I- do you want a Chocolate Frog or something?"  
  
"Hate them," Padma sniffed.  
  
"Yeah, me too. My dad's always sending them to me though. I thought I might as well put them to good use- Patil, /what's the matter/?"  
  
"I'm /fine/," Padma insisted, crying some more.  
  
"You don't look it. Anyway, I was thinking we could just do the tutoring /now/ and get it over with. At least most of it. So it doesn't cast a shadow over the holidays and you can evade and disregard your ethnicity in peace."  
  
Padma stopped crying. "Really?"  
  
"Yes. One one condition."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I get to bring my brother."  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Overprotective was right. Lisa seemed more interested in talking to Jack than in quizzing Padma on Romanian Longhorns.  
  
"Jack, are you thirsty?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Do you need to go to the loo?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Patil, why are Longhorns an endangered species?"  
  
"Er... I don't know?"  
  
"I'm not surprised. D'/you/ want a Chocolate Frog, Jack?"  
  
"No!" Jack sighed adorably and gave Padma a /why-am-I-surrounded-by-incompetent-fools/ look. She returned it.   
  
Lisa glared at them. "It's not /my/ fault he's helpless," she snapped. "And stop doing that to your hair, Patil."  
  
"What am I doing to my hair?"  
  
"Twisting it like that. It's very distracting."  
  
"Well, it's distracting when /you/ push your hair back too, you know," Padma said, and immediately realized that this was true.  
  
Jack burst out laughing, and then started to sing a song about Padma and Lisa sitting in a tree, at which point Lisa turned very red and rushed him off to the loo. Padma supposed that was a Muggle thing, and wondered what on earth it was about.  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ::shivers:: Ooh, dear, I've commited OC. Please don't hurt me... unless you're going to flame me! ::hugs Jack for possibly causing flames:: :) ::has grown addicted to smileys::  
Right. And now to answer reviews.   
  
Kimagure- You should have flamed me. But if Padma and Mandy make up, then Padma The Seething Mass Of Hormones (TM) won't pay any attention to Lisa The Other Seething Mass Of Hormones (also TM). And Lisa shouldn't be punished just because she has a roundabout way of showing her affections, should she?  
  
Normandie M- You should have flamed me. Don't ask me why, it's an obsession of mine. Sorting Hat tests drive me rather insane- first I got Slytherin and was horrified, then I purposely answered differently and got   
Ravenclaw, then I tried again because I felt bad for cheating and got Slytherin, then, after I finally got used to being in Slytherin, I got Gryffindor. Ugh.  
  
Tess- You should have flamed me. (I am getting tiresome, I suppose.) But your review is all, um, nice and fuzzy and stuff. So thank you.  
  
Chinsei- Yes, please /do/ flame me! I'm really looking for something of the "U Sicko Padma Doesnt Play 4 That Team Y Do U Think She Went W/ Roon" variety,which I could reply to with an amused "Parvati /made/ her go with Ron, you git. And don't you /dare/ tell me they belong together, just look at Hermione. And it's Ron, not 'Roon.'" But I suppose it would be funnier if it was an actual flamer, because then I wouldn't be making fun of someone who /pretended/ to be a flamer.  
  
Bec- As I said to Kimagure in the last chapter, you ought to flame me because of my not being worthy of your greatness. What does 'w00tA_" mean?   
  
Another Rowan- Same as I said to Bec and Kimagure. But thanks a lot. (Not sarcastically, although people tend to use it that way.  
  
Silverdrag- ::jumps up and down:: Thank you, thank you, thank you! ::hugs you and deposits a cookie on your outstretched palm:: Sorry I was writing slow- it was because I couldn't figure out if there were any Hindu holidays around Christmastime. 


	5. An Appalling Lack Of Leather

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Um, chapter five. There's still going to be slash. It's still going to belong to JK Rowling. Am I allowed to cease my disclaimers and warnings now? Pretty please? ::sticks out lower lip adorably:: Oh, and did anyone notice we ("we" being ff.net) made TIME Magazine? I was ever so proud, weren't you? Although the only reference to HP fanfic was about a Snape/Draco smut. Boohoo. They couldn't even bear to mention something more pleasant like a Ginny/McGonagall smut.  
I got my lesbian stereotypes from:  
1. Spending a lot of time in Provincetown.  
2. The short story Dancing Backwards.  
3. The fic Love In Excess.  
4. My parents, explaining why no one likes Tinky Winky. (Actually, I like Po better, but that's beside the point.)  
5. Various other sources, including two lesbian friends of my parents, who presented me with a stuffed lavender bunny in my youth and caused me to write f/f slash when I grew up. :(  
And this chapter is- have you ever read SilentStalker's Chatroom Anonymity? Well, if you haven't you should. But you know how, even though it's called Romance/Humor, there are one or two really angsty chapters, barely anything funny at all? I can't make myself be that serious, but this chapter is decidedly un-lighthearted, compared to the rest of the fic. (We need a word for that- heavyhearted?)  
Oh, yes, and this contains teenagers consuming alcohol. Well... sort of. Oh, and violence, and implied... something, and- yup, time to up the rating. And I was so *proud* of having a PG slashfic! Ah, never mind. Don't want to be a leah-chan.  
(Note- My term leah-chan, meaning an author who gives her fics low ratings even when they're very adult, is derived from leah-chan, an ff.net writer. The reason I use her name for this term is that Sacrificial Lamb, my favorite story by her - a) contains Hannah, Justin, and Susan as an s & m threesome, b) centers around Ron seducing Snape, c) has Lisa, Padma, Terry, and Mandy in "a sort of casual group sex thing," and d) is rated PG. Not that I'm going to do any of those things- just imagine how lonely Ivan and Rag would feel!- but, just to be safe, it's PG-13 now.)  
Taunting people with Asperger's wasn't my intent, nor am I saying that I believe they're "raving mad." Blame Jack, he can convince me of anything. OCs (my horrid SpellCheck keeps changing that to Ocs) are like that.  
Oh, and let's say Christmas holidays go, erm- 12/15-1/5? Because Hogwarts is a majorly cool place, and thus has a really long holiday. Yeah.  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
The first study session of Christmas vacation did not last long, what with all the hair arguments and Jack's singing. As a result, the Turpins met Padma a week later for another one. Padma, having been utterly bored, had spent the days studying dragons. She wasn't sure why she did this, except that she thought it would be funny. Lisa was sure to be quite shocked when she knew all the answers, and after four-and-a-half years with Mandy, Padma knew that many people often looked very amusing shocked.  
Lisa was one of these people. Her pale eyes grew utterly wide and she started running her fingers through her hair, which Padma continued to find distracting. "Patil, what.... what *happened*?" she gasped, looking utterly terrified.  
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Padma said very smugly. "Are we done studying now?"  
"Oh, no!" Jack cried. "It was such *fun*! And there are no other Hufflepuff first years staying, I need company."  
"You're in *Hufflepuff*?" Padma asked him.  
"Do you have a problem with my brother being in Hufflepuff?" Lisa asked her, switching expressions. She resembled a fifteen-year-old Professor McGonagall under extreme pressure.  
"Erm... no," Padma said.  
"Good. Right, next we've got to do... mooncalves. Professor Hagrid told me. *They're* not so vicious either-"  
"Maybe Maxime's had an affect on him," Jack muttered. "Can you say 'whipped?'"   
Padma snorted.  
"Quiet. You have no right to make fun of people for falling in love, Jack. Or you, Patil- but then you don't even believe in mixed marriages, do you? So of course you wouldn't want Professor Hagrid to find happiness, being what he is-"  
Perhaps the studying had been foolish. Lisa was getting mean again.  
"Anyway, I want to show you a place where they danced. It might help you understand better. It's out behind the lake- the patterns are really quite interesting, beautiful, even. You'll like them, actually- they horrify Muggles so they're really right up your alley."  
"Right up my alley?"  
"You were friends with a Muggle-born for what, four years, and you couldn't even bother to learn our expressions?"  
For the umpteenth time since the tutoring had begun, Padma sighed.  
"Anyway. Come on. You coming, Jack?"  
"Yes," he said.  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
Jack had been humming loudly and annoyingly, and Padma had been whistling in harmony. She seemed to remember Mandy telling her something about whistling girls and crowing hens, and for the first time it occurred to her that that was some sort of metaphor. What was the next line? Always come to some bad end, that was it. She was, of course, a whistling girl both literally and figuratively- it was odd that she'd never been one of Trelawney's victims. Perhaps Parvati had pleaded for mercy on her behalf.  
"Look," Lisa said, quietly. They were standing just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, on a flat plain.  
Jack stopped humming. Padma stopped whistling. Instead, they all stared at the intricate designs beneath their feet. They were abstract, most of them- just lines and circles and crosses that nonetheless seemed to speak to something wispy and chaste and trembling, something deep inside all three of them.  
"Wow," Padma said.  
"Crikey," Jack said.  
"No one says 'crikey,' anymore, Jack," Lisa said. "I told you it was beautiful, though, didn't I?"  
"Yeah," Padma breathed.  
"I'm going to write a book about mooncalves someday," Lisa continued. "Barely anyone pays attention to them, 'cos they don't hurt anyone- but they're so *beautiful*. Both them and the things they leave behind."  
"You can run away if you like- mooncalves get her like this," whispered Jack. "Can't even tell who people are. Raving mad, really. I think she's got Asperger's."  
Padma might have if she hadn't been looking at the ground. It was as if her feet were glued to the earth, and her eyes; she couldn't have left if she tried. From their stillness, she could see it was true of the others as well.  
"Right," Lisa said suddenly. "Off we go."  
They turned around and marched militantly back towards the castle. They weren't halfway there before they found her, lying on the ground. She looked quite peaceful, really, her arms folded across her chest. But she wasn't moving, or even breathing, and in thin, glowing green letters that floated in the air above her head were the words /Watch Out, Mudbloods/. It was as phosphorescent as any firefly, that message. Both literally and figuratively.  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
"I really haven't got the time for this," Madam Pomfrey whined to Professor McGonagall. "Not only has a fifth-year been Stunned in an *obvious* message from the Death Eaters, not only did another student have an anxiety attack upon seeing her- oh no!- but half the children here are *loitering* around the infirmary trying to see if they're all right."  
"Now, now, sweetums," said McGonagall, laying her hand seductively on Madam Pomfrey's shoulder. "It's all right. You'll handle it. And if things calm down you can meet me for some beer in Hogsmeade tonight."  
Padma might have snorted if she hadn't been feeling so scared. As it was, all of Jack's friends did. He was apparently very popular, and his desire to stay with Lisa in the hospital wing until she was pronounced healthy had sparked a huge congregation of all the loud, irritating students in the lower grades- the ones who were staying for the holidays, that is. And, Padma was amused to note, the famous Weasley twins as well.  
"Is Mandy awake?" Padma asked for the seventeenth time (she'd kept count). This time, Madam Pomfrey actually heard her over the noise.  
"She's awake," she whispered, "but very- well, stunned. Distraught. You're a friend of hers?"  
"Kind of," Padma said.  
"Normally, of course, I wouldn't want you to visit her- it would annoy her, probably give her a cold."  
"Ah."   
"But it seems like- well, I couldn't get her to speak to me, actually. Maybe if you-"  
"Oh," Padma said. "Okay."  
"She's over there- you could just sit on her bed, under the curtains. Probably wouldn't want to see too many people, after what she's been through."  
"Yeah," Padma said. "I will."  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
"Mandy? You awake?  
"I know you can hear me.  
"Shit, answer me, would you? I'm sorry- you *know* I'm not like them. I was just mad at you, that's all. You *know* that.  
"This isn't funny. If you think it's funny, just laying there like you're- I can see you *breathing*, Mandy.  
"Please?  
"Fine.   
"I swear that's not what I meant, okay? Whoever did that to you was horrible. I don't-  
"Look, I'm... I'm gay, okay? I'm in love with you, and I really didn't know how to- what to do, so I just- I just got mad at you. I'm *sorry*. I'm really *sorry*. I *know* you're not like that, but I want you to know I love you. I don't hate you. I want to be your... friend, and I want you to talk, okay? Please?"  
"What about *Pierre*?"  
"That isn't the point. Who was it?"  
"Who was what?"  
"The people who Stunned you. Slytherins, right?"  
"I... I don't know. I think. Probably sixth or seventh years. I didn't recognize any of them."  
"They didn't... do anything to you, did they? It was fast?"  
"Well... they called me Mudblood, that's all. I don't know how they knew- can you, can you tell it? To look at me?"  
"They'd probably been watching you, silly. And because you're always going on those stupid walks they knew they could get you during the holidays. It wouldn't matter if you could tell, anyway, you know."  
"Yeah."  
"I'm really sorry."  
"It's okay. Anyway, what *about* Pierre?"  
"*Mandy*."  
"*Padma*."  
"Okay. He was very funny and very smart and I'm sure he was quite good-looking. I'm just... not, you know."  
"But purple is your least favorite color. And you have really long hair, and you're terrible at sports, you don't wear yellow or green on Thursdays, or leather, and you don't like flannel or have a cat or *anything*. You *can't* be gay."  
"Well, I am. But I'll get a haircut if it makes you feel more comfortable."  
"Really?"  
"No."  
"I'm not, you know. Gay."  
"Yeah. I know. It was... I mean, I suppose I knew."  
"Sorry I didn't notice."  
"It's okay. I should have gotten a cat if I really wanted it to be obvious."  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
Padma sat in the common room, all alone on a sofa. No one was in her dormitory, and although she knew there were some students staying, it felt as though the Ravenclaw dungeons were even more ancient than they were, and haunted by someone a lot less friendly than the Gray Lady.  
She had been thumbing absentmindedly through a book of cures for various diseases. She had found it the year before, but only lately had she been returning to the L section. The only entry under lesbianism told you to jump in a lake, swim ten laps, take a bath in undiluted bubotuber pus, and eat some Chocolate Frogs. Then you had to give the Frog cards to every girl you'd ever had a crush on, writing your name in the corner so that they wouldn't have any value. The person who made that one up must have been awfully homophobic, but she'd been considering it anyway.  
Now she wasn't, really. It surprised her that she felt so much better now. Maybe coming out did that sort of thing to you.  
Someone tumbled through the portrait-hole suddenly, as if they had been pushed by a murderer- or *were* a murderer. Padma felt her heart leap up into her throat and, against her better judgement, she screamed.  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
"I-it's okay," Lisa stammered breathily, holding up her hands. "Really. I swear. It's just an inhaler, I promise. Do you know- what an inhaler is?"  
"*Oh*," said Padma, who didn't. "Sorry."  
"S-sorry," Lisa said. "C-can I have a Chocolate Frog?"  
"I thought you hated them."  
"I-I do hate them, f-full-blood," Lisa explained, trembling from head to foot. "But they were- it's sort of h-hard to explain."  
"Try."  
"Er- well, when my mum... d-died, my dad sort of went away, you know? I had to be the parent, sort of. For Jack. And every so often, when he realized he'd been- ignoring us- he'd give us Chocolate Frogs. And for a bit I thought he was getting better when he did. Now I know he never will, but... it takes me back, y-you know? To when I hoped he would..."  
"You poor baby!" Padma exclaimed, hugging Lisa. Then she jumped away and they both stood there uncomfortably.  
"D'you- have any? Of them?"  
"I have Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."  
"E-excellent," Lisa observed. "Jack developed a spell to make them all mocha-flavored."  
"Like *coffee*?" Padma asked distastefully.  
"No!" Lisa cried, so shocked she'd forgotten to stutter. "Who would ever want a coffee-flavored jellybean? I'm talking coffee *ice cream*. Not just coffee ice cream- *Cappuchino Chip* ice cream."  
Padma stared. "Oh. My. God."  
"You've had it?"  
"Mandy brought some to school once. Lisa, if you wish you can say I hate Muggles- but *never* say I hate Muggle ice cream."  
Lisa seemed pleased, and dropped her inhaler in the excitement of the moment. "Beans, please?"  
Padma dug an enormous grubby bag out of her robes and spilled the contents onto a nearby table.  
"*Javagucha*!"  
All the beans turned a lovely pale brown, and the two girls fell on them like vultures.  
"Yummy!" Padma shrieked.  
"Is stating the obvious one of your remarkable gifts?" Lisa countered.  
"Yes!" cried Padma. "But I no longer care!"  
By the time a quarter of the beans had been consumed, both girls were very, very hyper.  
"Guess what?!" Lisa asked.  
"What?!"  
"Jack told me that Kevin Whitby told him that someone else told him that if you mix cinnamon with butterbeer, it becomes an alcoholic drink!"  
"That's so cool! Do you have butterbeer?!"  
"Yes! Do you have cinnamon?!"  
"Yes! I always keep an economy-sized vat of cinnamon under my bed in case I need it!"  
"Great!"  
Down the hall ran Padma and Lisa. Up the hall ran Padma and Lisa with three bottles of butterbeer and an economy-sized vat of cinnamon.  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
Lisa gulped her cinnamon butterbeer. "Ahhhh."  
"I agree," Padma said. "This is much better than beer."  
"Beer is yucky," Lisa confided. "I had some of my dad's once."  
"Do you think we're drunk yet?" Padma asked.  
"Maybe not," Lisa said, and swallowed the entire bottle. Padma followed suit.   
I suppose you can guess what happened next. If you can't, here's a little help: Ravenclaw fifth-year girls have the dirtiest minds in the magical world (with the obvious exception of Professor McGonagall). But, like Professor McGonagall, Ravenclaw fifth-year girls have an almost superhuman ability to control themselves, even when sitting on Mandy Brocklehurst's bed. But often, when people are drunk, they lose their control, no matter how superhuman it may be.  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
::grins nastily:: Ha ha, I did it all in implications. I'm sorry, I just *can't* write kissing or sex or groping or *anything* besides unrequited lust. And the hate part of love/hate. Maybe I'll mature by next chapter? :)  
Now for the Answering Of The Reviews. Now that I have been flamed- yes, a fake flame, by someone who had to see me at the AOL boards every day and, apparently, decided she couldn't bear my incessant whining, but a lovely flame nonetheless, a Pulitzer-prize-winning flame- I will no longer blather about this. Of course, if anyone *wants* to flame me...   
Normandie M- I didn't fall in love with anyone in the movie, but now that I think about Frik... yeah. He was rather hot. Yup- did I do it too subtext-y? Well, never mind, they're obvious enough here.  
Dala (1)- This is quite brilliant. You should post it as a fic- I especially like the alternating caps and lowercase. And do you know where the Adam and Steve thing came from, anyway?  
Dala (2)- Thanks, I think. But what's a UST? Is it like an MST except it happens in an urban area, or in Ukraine, or... ::can't think of any more words that start with "u"::  
Nest Freemark- Thank you too. I loved your answer to that flame of your story- can't remember the title, but I'm pretty sure it also started with a game of Truth or Dare. ::suddenly realizes that her father is playing Tori Amos, who she has never heard before, just read the lyrics of in Francesca Lia Block books:: Okay, that's just spooky... :) I'm addicted to smileys, y'know.  
And as they say at FAP- Read? Review!  
Wait, Amanda-the-long-winded has got one more thing to do. I have decided that I will get more (and more interesting) reviews if I ask the readers questions. Fic-related questions. So-  
1. What house do you prefer, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?  
2. Do you think R. and H. have the same rivalry as Gryffindor and Slytherin?  
3. Did you ever write/wonder about any of the Ravenclaws, besides Cho?  
4. If so, who?  
5. If you're a straight girl, why are you reading f/f?  
6. Should Lavender (I just realized I've been mispelling her name the whole fic) and Parvat make an appearance?  
7. If they do, should they be a couple? I rather adore the pairing, but what would I do about Seam?  
8. Is it bad luck not to have ten questions? I hope not. 


	6. Padma And The Pythonites

Wait, what chapter is this? ::checks:: Six. Yay. I've been doing this for.. a while. Wow.   
  
I decided that this fic wasn't funny enough and needed to be made more funny. So I made a list of funny things-  
  
1. Pointlesssness.  
  
2. Monty Python.  
  
3. Dream sequences.  
  
Thus, this chapter is a pointless Monty Python dream sequence. If you do not like Monty Python, or if you have a bizarre and unhealthy attachment to plot, then this is not the chapter for you. If you do not like slash, however, you are in luck, because this isn't a slash-focused chapter- apparently Padma finds defending oneself from a banana more distracting than Lisa's hair.  
  
In other news: I was going up the stairs in school one day, and I happened to pass beside two populars exchanging greetings. As I did I heard one of them say "Hey, Mand," to the other. Parvati and Lavender do exist! Also, I am watching /Buffy/, which rocks. I have devoted my life to Willow's hair, clothes, expressions, and token-gay jokes, all of which never fail to fascinate me, despite the fact that token-gay jokes usually make me feel like banging my head against the proverbial wall. I've been told it's a psychological problem.  
  
Oh, yes, and while the books belong to JKR, Jack belongs to me and Lavender. Monty Python belong to themselves, unless they've done something stupid like selling their souls to the devil- I wouldn't put it past them, really. Would you?  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Padma shifted through a hazy land of dreams; the sort of place where snow stuck and there were a lot of topless dancers. It was a rather majestic place, that foggy land of dreams. Occasionally she wished she could stay there forever, although she wasn't sure what that said about her sexual morality.  
  
"Wake up," someone yelled shrilly. "My brother's having an identity crisis!"  
  
Padma jerked awake and shoved away the sleeper's bluriness that clouded her vision. Once it was gone she saw quite clearly- the Turpins, one despectacled and looking oddly vulnerable without them, the other sobbing into a handkerchief.  
  
"What?" she inquired, rubbing her eyes. She disliked being removed from the land of dreams. Greatly.  
  
"I /said/," Lisa repeated, trying and failing to adjust her glasses, "my brother's having an identity crisis. Says he never wanted to be a Hufflepuff."  
  
"Oh," Padma said. "Well, Jack, if we- wait, how did he get into our common room?"  
  
"I dunno," said Lisa, shrugging.   
  
"Hmmm. Jack, being a Gryffindor is highly overrated. All they do is run around and get killed and stuff. It's much better to be loyal or smart, you live longer that way. Well, maybe not being loyal- or fair- or... no, wait, Hufflepuffs don't live very long either. But they're much better people, you know, and..."  
  
"Shhhh!" Lisa hissed. "Listen!"  
  
"You don't understand!" Jack whined brokenly. "I never wanted to be a Gryffindor either! I never wanted to go to Hogwarts! I wanted to be..."  
  
"A Squib!" Padma offered, helpfully.  
  
"A lumberjack!"  
  
Suddenly a lot of Hufflepuffs jumped out from behind a sofa and started singing. Lisa winced.  
  
"What is this madness?" Padma cried out in terror.  
  
"Not madness, Patil," Lisa explained. "Monty Python."  
  
"What shall we do?"  
  
"I think we should go to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."  
  
"All right!"  
  
And off they went.  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Why are you walking that way?"  
  
"What d'you mean, why am I walking this way? Are only pure-bloods allowed to-"  
  
"It's a bit odd-"  
  
"It is not. I always walk this way. You ought to see my father."  
  
"Oh."  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Professor McGonagall?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you know where Professor Dumbledore is?"  
  
"Oh... I do, as a matter of fact. Fell out the window quite some time ago."  
  
"Perhaps I've got the layout of Hogwarts wrong, Professor, but I was under the impression that his office was on the first floor."  
  
"You've got it wrong."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"While you're at it, though, could you take the body away?"  
  
"I'm not dead yet!"  
  
"I think you're dead. What do you think?"  
  
"I think I'll go for a walk!"  
  
"I think he's dead, Professor."  
  
"Well, I don't. Look, he's quite alive."  
  
"Oh, be quiet, Patil. He's dead, just look at him."  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"/Avada Kedavra!"  
  
"......"  
  
"You can take him now."  
  
"Oh."  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Where shall we put him?" Padma said uncomfortably, lugging the headmaster down the hall. "And why are you so calm about this?"  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"I wish you'd stop saying that."  
  
"Well, I wish you'd stop doing that to your hair."  
  
"Will you shut up about my hair!"  
  
"And you keep disregarding your ethnicity."  
  
"At least I don't /walk silly/!"  
  
"I think he's getting away."  
  
"You're just saying that to make me shut up. You're irritating and politically correct and you think you're smarter than other people because you're half-"  
  
"/How dare you!/"  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"It's all right. But I think he got away."  
  
"When danger reared its ugly head, brave Professor Dumbledore..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It wasn't me."  
  
"I'm tired."  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++When Padma woke from her nap, Lisa was gone. A few hours later she located her outside the girls' toilet, telling Seamus that he needed to be brave.  
  
"But they'll /laugh/ at me!" he said. "People always /laugh/ at me..."  
  
"People only laugh because you're dead sexy and they're embarrassed," Lisa explained kindly.  
  
"I am?"  
  
"Well, according to a lot of people. I wouldn't know, myself, but I'm sure..."  
  
"I was sure too! I thought Parvati would fix our relationship, not.... seduce Lavender!"  
  
Padma stared.  
  
"It's all right, it's all right," Lisa soothed, patting him on the back rather hard.  
  
"Okay," he sniffled.  
  
"Go back into the girls' toilet..."  
  
"Okay." Seamus went back in. Then he came back out. An anvil landed on him.  
  
"So much for sympathy," Lisa remarked. "Why don't we go see Professor Snape? McGonagall is in no state to banish a Monty Python takeover of the school."  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Excuse us, Professor, but-"  
  
"Potter, come at me with that cherry."  
  
"We've done cherries, Professor."  
  
"Five points from Gryffindor. Longbottom, come at me with the cherry."  
  
"But we've done cherries!"  
  
"Malfoy, have we done cherries?"  
  
"Cherries, pomegranates, lemons, apples, oranges, pears, grapes, blueberries... yes, Professor."  
  
"Right. So now we will do raspberries."  
  
"We've done raspberries, Professor."  
  
"Stop being such a know-it-all, Granger."  
  
"Excuse me, Professor, but the school-"  
  
"What about bananas?"  
  
"-is being taken over by Monty Python, and personally I think it's the work of Death Eaters or aspiring-"  
  
"Right. Weasley, come at me with that banana."  
  
"Oh, dear."  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Right," Lisa said, pacing back and forth. She banged into a wall and wished she had her glasses. "We must do something about this."  
  
"I don't know if we can."  
  
"Of course we can. I personally think we ought to go to Brocklehurst and ask her what the attackers looked like. I'm sure they're behind this."  
  
"Mmmm."  
  
"She must know."  
  
"I bet she doesn't," Padma said. "I personally don't think that anyone should be able to give supreme executive help just because some watery Slytherins threw a curse at-"  
  
"Patil."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"I can't believe this, Pomfrey! I can take the stupid hospital gown! I can take the ugly bedcurtains! But this- I will not stand for this!"  
  
"Calm down, dear. You're very stressed."  
  
"Excuse me- Mandy-"  
  
"Help me, Padma! She's given me..."  
  
"All I did was to give her a healthy breakfast."  
  
"Spam, spam, spam, spam," observed Jack's Hufflepuff friends, jumping out from behind a bed. "Wonderful spam!"  
  
Mandy scooped up a gob of spam and threw it at Lisa. Padma dived in front of her, the spam whacked her soggily in the face, and all was blackness.  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ::giggles:: Oh. My. God. I can't even believe that I wrote that.  
  
More questions, not all fic-oriented:  
  
1. Who, in your opinion, is the most irritating gay character in a book, movie, fic, or TV show? I'm torn between Raven in /Tomorrow Wendy/ and Jack on /Dawson's Creek/.  
  
2. What zodiac signs do you think the characters in R.A.D. are?  
  
3. Are all the /Buffy/ characters equal in hotness, or are some hotter than others? If so, who?  
  
4. Should I make this a more standard f/f fic? Y'know, Mandy turns out to have been in denial and she and Padma jump into a horse-drawn carriage and ride off into a majestically beautiful sunset?  
  
Little answer-thingys:  
  
Normandie M- Ang oo or evoking. (That was me thanking you for reviewing with my mouth full.) I meant Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but because I like love/hate R/H, you get a cookie for interpreting it that way. ::makes a note to read your fic:: I actually label most un-Housed characters as Ravenclaws; bias, I suppose.  
  
Chisakami- ::pats Padma on the head and gives you a cookie:: ::gives you two more cookies for sharing her orientation and thirteenophile:: ::is in a cookie-giving mood::  
  
Dala- (1) Menage a trios? Spellcheck didn't mind, so I've probably spelled it wrong. I'm not sure if this chapter has one, because I think someone once told me that a three-way is just three people and a whatchamacallit is when there's a love triangle. Or not.  
  
Dala- (2) ::is happy:: Such a pretty acronym. I've since read it in this loverly thing-posing-as-a-fic called The Slash Glossary- although I rather wish I hadn't read TSG, because in social studies my teacher was talking about oil, and when he said "lubrication" I... well, you didn't need to hear that, I think.  
Oh, and does anyone know what channel 'Sun' is in the Cape Cod area? Because if I don't see a slashy movie I'll probably have some weird identity crisis thing because of being all repressed-ish, and there's one there on Friday, but my parents brought the stupid New York TV Guide... you didn't need to hear that either, did you? 


	7. A Violet Egyptian Pyramid

Chapter Seven.  
  
I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because my dog died, but that happened before the last chapter. I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because Dee Dee Ramone died, but my father's the one with the crush. And I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because I died, but face it, I'd have to be dead. And I'm not.  
  
Actually, I'm just lazy.  
  
Right. There's slash in this fic. Most of the characters and the school in this fic belong to JK Rowling, a terribly cool person. If someone steals this fic, I will not care, because I won't lose any money anyway. Also, the beginning of this chapter is somewhat lifted from a book called Five Children And It.  
  
And I'm sorry if the way I've written Mandy offends anyone, 'cos I meant her to be funny.  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
Padma wasn't sure why, but she seemed to be standing on an open plain while huge raindrops shaped like triangles fell on her head. She kept her mouth shut tight, because she knew that if she opened it and a triangle dropped in, she would turn into Parvati, and the world would have to deal with two of her. But the rain seemed to want to come inside her, because the raindrops grew larger and thicker until they were just a huge sheet of water, suffocating.  
  
Her eyes snapped open. There was a washcloth on her face, dripping into her nose. "Owww," she said, sitting up. Then, as her head began to ache, she said "Owwww," again.  
  
"Stupid," said someone sitting perched on a sofa, also with a washcloth on her face, "I put that on your head to help with the headache. I'd sort of forgotten that alcohol did that to you."  
  
Padma placed the washcloth back on her head. "Who are you and what are you talking about?"  
  
"Lisa Artemis Turpin, fifth-year-Ravenclaw and aspiring mooncalf researcher. I'm talking about the fact that last night after I had my anxiety attack and Mandy got attacked by Slytherins we drank butterbeer mixed with cinnamon from the secret vat under your bed."  
  
"Oh," Padma said. "Why don't you just put a spell on our heads to make the headache go away?"  
  
"Forgot. Jericulunus!"  
  
"Thank you," Padma said. "And I hate to tell you this, but you're quite out of character this morning."  
  
"I'm sorry," Lisa replied. "I'm just... I dunno." She shook herself all over like a wet dog. "Good morning, Patil, although I find it disgusting that anyone horrible enough to take advantage of someone with an anxiety attack is able to have a good morning in the first place. But I expect that's just a sign of the times."  
  
"Much better. Do you know what time it is?"  
  
Lisa looked at her watch. "Ten o'clock, more or less."  
  
"Shit! I have to go check on Mandy."  
  
"And I've got to go check on Jack. He waited there so long he fell asleep, and Madam Pomfrey was absolutely sure he'd got bitten by a tsetse fly. She said he had to stay the night."  
  
"Right then."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"You're being out of character again."  
  
"Sorry."  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
"G'morning!" Mandy cried upon seeing Padma. She was eating vegetable soup, not spam, in the Great Hall. Apparently she had left the hospital wing very early in the day and spent her morning in the library, reading Shakespeare for her parents. So far she had gotten through three whole pages of Romeo and Juliet, and she was very proud of her accomplishment.  
  
"Good morning," Padma said wearily, amused by all the different ways the phrase could be used. "So, I suppose you're-"  
  
Mandy cut her off. "Padma, I've got to talk to you."  
  
"You are talking to me."  
  
"Padma, I'm not saying this because you're a lesbian, because that would be offensive and you'd have to curse me for it, but it's like talking to a bloke sometimes." Mandy swallowed some soup in a way that, according to Padma's mother, was incredibly rude. But she had always been a bit of a fetishist in the area of table manners. "Anyway, I've decided that I'm going to be wonderful and supportive and not say anything stereotypical about gays, because that's what good friends do."  
  
"Oh," said Padma, wondering why she felt so afraid. "Er... all right."  
  
"Good," Mandy said, sounding like a professor even as shoved soup into her mouth. "Just to help me out, you know, so I'm not rude or anything, could I ask you some questions?"  
  
"I knew it," Padma muttered. "I knew you were going to do something horribly annoying just as soon as you started sounding so nice."  
  
"First, should I say 'girlfriend' or 'lover?'"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know. Of your significant other. Is it offensive to call someone's significant other her girlfriend?"  
  
Padma sat down at the table and a bowl of soup appeared in front of her as well. "Mandy, I haven't got a significant other."  
  
"Of course you have," Mandy said. "I thought all of you did, like you found them with some sort of secret hand signal or something, and then you went off to a bathroom and made out and stuff."  
  
"Mandy, you've got your stereotypes muddled up again. That's gay boys."  
  
Mandy continued to slurp her soup. "So it is. I'm sorry, Padma. Anyway, what should I say?"  
  
Padma took a tiny, mincing spoonful of soup from the opposite side of the bowl. Her mother would have been proud. "I dunno, girlfriend I suppose."  
  
Mandy took a parchment out of her pocket and wrote 'she supposes girlfriend' in large letters upon it. At the top of the page was a large P enchanted to flash rainbow colors. "So why were you so late down this morning anyway?"  
  
Padma blushed. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Ha!" Mandy trumpeted. "I knew it! So you have got a girlfriend after all!"  
  
Ernie Macmillan, the only other person in the Great Hall, was staring at them in a sort of horror. Padma was surprised she hadn't noticed it before. "I have not got a girlfriend, Mandy."  
  
"Right, then, what were you doing? I promise, I have absolutely no problem with whatever it is you do in bed, I won't go white or anything, I'm perfectly open-minded-"  
  
"You gave Lisa Turpin an anxiety attack, so we drank butterbeer and cinnamon and slept a long time."  
  
"Wait." Mandy threw up a hand suddenly and nearly saturated herself with the soup. "Back up here. What happened?"  
-240  
Padma explained.  
  
"Blimey," Mandy said, sounding more like a bloke than Padma ever could. "Lisa Turpin. I didn't think she ever talked."  
  
"She talks."  
  
"I suppose there are some people who just stay quiet except one-on-one, you know, kind of the opposite of power in numbers... Padma, have you ever seen that shirt that says 'never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups?' Isn't it brilliant?"  
  
"I used to have it, but Parvati was offended. She said she and Lavender aren't a large group and they manage fine anyway."  
  
"I don't consider them managing... oh God."  
  
"What?" Padma asked. Mandy's eyes had suddenly gone entirely blank, a moment before she broke into hysterical laughter. "Mandy, you haven't got post-traumatic-stress-disorder, have you?"  
  
"No, stupid." Mandy finished her soup and the bowl filled itself again. "Doesn't butterbeer and cinnamon make you drunk?"  
  
"Er... yeah, that was the point."  
  
"You got drunk?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You... do you remember anything that happened while you were drunk?"  
  
Padma considered. "Well, no, not really."  
  
"Don't you know what that means?" Mandy was rocking back and forth on her bench with nervous energy and smugness.  
  
"No."  
  
"It means..." Mandy leaned conspiratorially over. "It means you two shagged like bunny rabbits."  
  
"Us two? You mean... my God, Mandy, you're mussing up stereotypes again. Lesbians are supposed to be frigid, you know, and besides... God, Lisa... are you sure you're all right?"  
  
"Never been better," Mandy said perkily. And slurped.  
  
Padma placed spoon in bowl and head in hand, forking fingers through her hair. "I cannot believe you think that. And bunny rabbits, too... that's just awful. Bunny rabbits are sweet and pink, they're not horny. They don't shag."  
  
"Of course they shag! Why else d'you think they multiply so quickly?"  
  
"I never thought about that."  
  
"You're... you know, Padma, sometimes I feel like I've got to explain everything to you. Except Shakespeare, and lesbian stereotypes. Not knowing about... rabbits. And... really, Padma, you got drunk with another girl and didn't remember when you got up, and you haven't any idea what happened?"  
  
"She's not even gay."  
  
"I think she's gay."  
  
"And you know, do you?"  
  
"She looks gay. I saw her wearing leather once..."  
  
Padma sighed. Business as usual. "Mandy, enough about the leather. Lisa isn't gay. Even if she was... God, that's just squicky. We're not each other's types."  
  
-240"But you have to be!" Mandy squealed. "This is just so perfect. You can get a girlfriend, and then Rag and I can get boyfriends- preferably Ivan and Terry- and then we'll all be lovely and paired up for the rest of our school days."  
  
"Mandy, have you ever considered the fact that you might be obsessive-compulsive?"  
  
"Not seriously."  
  
"Well, you should."  
  
"You should consider the fact that you're keeping us from being lovely paired up couples with your racism."  
  
Padma sputtered. "I can't believe you! I am not racist, Mandy. I... am... not... racist. First Lisa and now you, this is-"  
  
"First Lisa and now me, what?" Mandy shoved her soup away carelessly and it spattered all over the table. She started to say something, but the table immediately absorbed the soup and the bowl filled itself again.  
  
Padma sighed. "You know. Her mother was killed by Death Eaters when she was little and she hates me 'cos she thinks I'm racist. Well, she doesn't hate me quite as much now, but she still thinks I'm racist."  
  
Mandy grinned snarkily. "Right."  
  
"Don't do that, Mandy. Why are your eyes gleaming like that?"  
  
"I can see it so clearly now, Padma. It was obviously her own repressed feelings for you that made her act that way."  
  
Padma stood up suddenly. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
"I told you. So we can be lovely and-"  
  
"Mandy. Why are you so intent on getting me a girlfriend?"  
  
Mandy squirmed. She was wearing Muggle clothes, as she usually did out of class. They were fairly loose Muggle clothes, too- someone should probably tell her that when she squirmed, anyone taller (or standing) could look directly down her shirt. Padma wasn't really planning to, though. "So? Why?"  
  
Mandy stopped squirming abruptly and looked elsewhere. "Because... erm... because you're... well, you're my best friend, Padma. I want you to be happy." She blushed darkly and glared at her soup.  
  
"Ha! I knew it!" Padma shrieked triumphantly, then quailed under a stare. "All right, all right, I want you to be happy too. But I have to go read your Shakespeare for you now, okay?"  
  
Mandy smiled brightly, stood, and placed a heavy volume in Padma's arms. Then she sat back down again. "Thank you, love- although please note that I meant that in a highly platonic way."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And please tell me all the dirty parts."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Padma left the Great Hall whistling. Mandy slurped several more bowls of soup. Ernie Macmillan just stared.  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Hullo."  
  
"Hullo."  
  
Pause.  
  
"If you don't mind my asking, who are you?"  
  
"That's absolutely none of your concern, dear."  
  
"Right then. What are you?"  
  
"See above."  
  
Jack crossed his arms and tried his best to look fierce. Mandy giggled. "Oh, all right. I'm... er... Hannah Abbott, and I'd like to ask you a few questions."  
  
"You are not."  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"You've got the wrong color hair."  
  
"Shush. You're just an underclassman-"  
  
"Hannah Abbott is an underclassman, and I'm fairly sure you are as well."  
  
"Close enough. I've only got two more years to go. That isn't the point though. I have to talk to you."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Your sister."  
  
"My sister?"  
  
"Yes. That touchy, myopic"- Mandy consulted her notes- "leather-wearing Ravenclaw you call your sister. First off, is she gay?"  
  
"What kind of a question is that?"  
  
"Believe me, I have your best interests at heart."  
  
"That's what Professor McGonagall said when she gave me detention for two months."  
  
"I'm not Professor McGonagall."  
  
"You're close."  
  
"I am not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Am not."  
  
0"Prove it."  
  
Mandy said several things, each more obscene than the last.  
  
"Okay, I believe you now."  
  
"You'd better. So? Answer my question."  
  
"Oh, yeah, your question. What was it again?"  
  
"Is your sister gay?"  
  
"Well, let's look at it this way. Have you ever seen an Egyptian pyramid?"  
  
"In books."  
  
"Right. What color were they?"  
  
"Well, yellow sort of. Pink at the dawn, and gold at the sunset, but what does that have to do with-"  
  
"Imagine a pyramid, Mandy. Your favorite."  
  
"The Bent Pyramid? Can I do the Bent Pyramid?"  
  
"No, you've got to do another one."  
  
"But I don't know any other ones."  
  
"Just think of a standard-issue Egyptian pyramid then." Mandy shut her eyes. "Got the mental image?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What color is it?"  
  
"Goldish."  
  
"Goldish. Well, imagine that it's not. Imagine that it's sort of- violet."  
  
"Okay. Now what?"  
  
"That's it."  
  
Mandy's eyes opened. "What d'you mean, that's it? What does a violet Egyptian pyramid have to do with-"  
  
Jack shrugged. "I'm a Hufflepuff, Brocklehurst. I don't have to make sense."  
  
"How do you know who-"  
  
"I was with your friend and my sister when they found you. Now, just think about this- you are a Ravenclaw, after all. And you're four years older than me, so I think I ought to tell you that I can see down your shirt when you sit like that."  
  
Mandy tugged up her shirt rather fruitlessly. "I still don't get it."  
  
"What's a violet Egyptian pyramid made up of? On each side?"  
  
"Er... little purple triangles?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Pause.  
  
"That was really odd. Why didn't you just say yes?"  
  
Jack shrugged. "It wasn't as fun."  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////Padma's reading of Shakespeare was interrupted by a lot of pounding footsteps. Mandy jumped in through the portrait hole, bounced up and down several times, and shouted "I knew it! I knew it!"  
  
Padma looked up wearily. "Knew what?"  
  
"I went to see Lisa Turpin's brother just now, and he says she is!"  
  
"Is what?"  
  
"Gay, stupid. Or am I supposed to say lesbian? I read that it really pisses you off to high heaven when you get called that-"  
  
"Mandy, didn't I use the word 'gay' when I came out to you?"  
  
"Well, yes, but I was a bit out of it, you know, I thought maybe you'd really said 'lesbian' or 'homosexual-'"  
0  
"Mandy, if I ever refer to myself as a homosexual, you have the right to pick up your wand, point it at me, and perform the Killing Curse. Same if you ever say it of me, or if anyone else does. I'm not some bloody textbook. What are you going on about?"  
  
"Jack says Lisa is gay."  
  
Padma pushed her hair back. "You didn't just go up and ask him 'Is your sister gay,' did you?"  
  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
Padma sighed. "Just because she's gay doesn't mean she likes me, and even if she did like me I don't like her, and even if we liked each other that doesn't mean we... er. You know. With the butterbeer."  
  
"Okay then."  
  
Padma blinked. "What?"  
  
Mandy nodded. "I'll go prove to you that she likes you, and that you two, and I quote 'er, you know, with the butterbeer.' Then you'll have to admit that you like her also, and you can go off and be all lovely and fluffy together."  
  
0Another sigh.  
  
"Padma, you sigh too much."  
  
"I know."  
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
Three uninteresting but vaguely amusing facts:  
  
1. If you bring the problems of a story into the dialogue (for ex., someone's really out of character or sighs too much), then it looks like you're doing it on purpose and no one realizes that your story is bad.  
  
02. I'm not writing questions anymore. 'Cos I can't think of any, that's why.  
  
3. On the second-to-last episode of the first season of Buffy, where the invisible girl is reading the chapter on Infiltration and Assassination, the text is actually the lyrics to a Beatles song.  
  
Review-ness. Yay. I love that word, don't you? (Oh, and it's probably safer not to read these. I rambled terribly about all manner of things.)  
  
Normandie M- Thank you for reviewing. Actually, I think everyone likes Giles. Oh, and happy birthday in retrospect.  
  
Preserve our jam- Thank you for reviewing. That does sound like an interesting game, but I was looking at the book I got the game from and realized that it really takes place in New Zealand. And they say all the coolest things- like at one point this girl is being sexually harrassed by this guy, and she says something like "Touch me and I'll chop off your goolies." Isn't that the coolest word? Yay, another Tammy-lover! (Although I dislike the name Tammy greatly; it's probably for the best that you couldn't remember.)  
  
Arashi who hasn't signed in- Thank you for reviewing. I didn't have a circa 7th grade astrology obsession phase, just a femslash one. Everyone on Buffy is so anorexic-looking, when Spike takes his shirt off you can actually count his ribs. My dad went to a Buffy chat and there was this horrid guy who kept saying that Tara was fat, and this other horrid guy who said Willow needed a man, and everyone hated Dawn... it was awful. Agh, I'm going on. But I hate it when people act like a girl's fat just because she's not incredibly skinny. I hope that isn't why they got rid of her.  
  
Chisakami- erm, are you Arashi who hasn't signed in? I hope so, because otherwise I'm going to be veerry confused.  
  
Dala- Thank you a lot for reviewing, because (::bows low::) I'm not worthy. I didn't like Angel so much, but I haven't watched the show for very long. The AOL boards are being awful to me and I usually waste the few minutes before they stop working on the sexual orientation board.  
  
Trin- Thank you for reviewing. You are not a moron, because I'm not worthy of your review either. I can't actually remember what it was called, but your fic about Draco in the pipes was wonderful... let's see, I think the title had something to do with candy... was it marshmellows... or cold... yeah, it was Adventures In Ice-O. See, I remembered. And it was lovely. So you're not allowed to call yourself a moron.  
  
fetch- Thank you for reviewing. As one of about three other authors of Padmaslash, you are cool-ish. Ergh... I can't think of anything to say. I think you've written some new fics so I'll go read them when I'm done.  
  
For some reason your name hasn't shown up, or maybe you just didn't type it in, and ff.net unintelligently put your review twice- Thank you for reviewing. Shrugs are fun, although I don't know what "shruggs" are. But I bet they're really cool. You can't watch Buffy 'cos of your school? What an awful school. RAD is a Ravenclaw-y fic? Yay! This is really weird- about a week ago I was near my rather airheaded ex-friend and her equally airheaded best friend as they did their math worksheets together, and was very disturbed to note that they were calling each other Al and Jule (their names are Ali and Julia). My friend suggested that they were lesbian lovers, but I doubt it.  
  
Foxglove Enchante- Thank you for reviewing, for using the word yay, and for trying to flame. Your authorname is cool, and in my new co-favorite book, Death The High Cost Of Living, there's a character named Foxglove. So. Go you.  
  
Kay- ::bows even lower than usual:: I am so not worthy.  
  
Chisakami- You're sweet. D'you know that?  
  
A Big Sign That Says Flame Me- I love you. Greatly.  
If you review, everyone, you have a chance (100%, too, unless I suddenly start getting hundreds) to receive a whiny, rambling paragraph from the fic's author. Now don't you want to review?  
  
You don't? Whyever not? 


	8. In Which Witches Are Often Betrayed By T...

Um. I've kind of dropped out of fanfiction, but I rather hate it when people don't finish their fics. So. Um. Here I go.  
Death. I can't.  
Oh. Maybe it's 'cos I didn't do my customary warning and shit. Um. The characters are mainly JK Rowling's. As I'm sure you know, this fic involves girls-who-like-girls (such a happy compound word). If girls-who-like-girls offend/disturb/disgust you, you know where to go.  
I mean, I suppose you know where to go. If you don't I could probably give you directions. Email me, okay?  
First stupid note, only it's really just something I thought of while writing: I just saw [I]The Emperors' Club[/I] and, while I was terrifically whiny about its lack of falsely happy endings, the entire melancholy thing is carried on the eagle wings of Martin's "what do you mean by hair?" line. I [I]lurve[/I] Martin. He looks kind of like Giles and kind of like this really sweet, somewhat smelly boy in my first-to-third grade classes... I miss that boy. I hope he hasn't been tainted.  
...  
Padma was sitting quietly on the floor of the Ravenclaw boys' dormitory, meditating with some candles she and Mandy had bought once, in the Muggle world. Mandy chose her candles by their names- "Temperance," "Inspiration," "Romance." Padma chose her candles by the quality of the nude female paintings reproduced on the packages. She was using all the candles, now.  
  
It was kind of bizarre of her, but she still missed Mandy, in a way. She supposed that once you were older you couldn't expect to have the kinds of friendships you did when you were little and didn't get distracted by watching your friends change, but it still depressed her. Also when they didn't [I]keep trying to match you up with bitter nearsighted girls by way of their annoying brothers[/I]. God.  
  
She was in the boys' dorm because she didn't want to run into Lisa or Mandy, and she was meditating because she had no idea what else she was supposed to do. The only thing she [I]could[/I] do, she supposed, was to wait out the rest of Christmas vacation and then latch onto Rag or someone when the others returned, so she didn't have to spend the rest of her school days in close proximity with either of the two most terrifying girls she had ever met.  
  
And most breathtaking. Which she hadn't thought, or maybe she'd thought it about Mandy, because she knew she liked Mandy by now, could deal with it, but she had not thought it because of her not liking Lisa and everything. Because that would kind of transcend any ability to deal with anything.  
  
She closed her eyes and tried to think of a mantra. She wasn't very good at it. She thought there ought to be a word for one's ability to deal with things. Because if there wasn't, that just made it worse. Things were lots easier if you had words for them. Sometimes.  
...  
She had to leave eventually, of course. She meditated for almost eight hours, except that a lot of her meditation time was actually spent running laps in the dormitory, doing her Potions homework, and reading various spellbooks, novels, and dirty magazines Terry and Ivan had left behind. But by nine at night her stomach was rumbling so loudly that even Playwizard couldn't distract her from going downstairs and finding something to eat.  
  
She was in a pleasant mood by now, so she wandered downstairs whistling and thinking about Marina, the Playwizard Witch of the Week (were they [I]real[/I]? Did it [I]matter[/I]?). She abruptly stopped whistling upon entering the Great Hall.  
  
"Shit," she said quietly. She had, of course, seen fit to forget that there was someone else who would be eating dinner late, if not also staring blankly into space and possibly- if not probably- crying.  
  
"Thank you ever so much for the greeting," Lisa said. "This wasn't your idea, was it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The thing with my brother and Mandy Brocklehurst. They're following me everywhere and [I]observing[/I] me. And they [I]giggle[/I]."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Padma. "Did they explain to you?"  
  
"Somewhat. Rather... Brocklehurst sort of sketched it out very generally, and my brother gave me a longer, detailed, sort of humiliating version later. They think we shagged like bunny rabbits last night under the influence of butterbeer with cinnamon in it. Or... something." Lisa cradled her crimson face between her shoulders. "I'm just not sure if I should hate you for it, on top of everything else."  
  
"I don't think it's my fault," Padma said. "Hopefully." She suddenly felt intense pity for Lisa- it was nearly as intense as the pity she felt for herself. "Mandy told me she's going to prove that you're gay and that we shagged and that we like each other, or something. But you're not, and we didn't, and we don't, and everything. So she'll feel kind of stupid later, I suppose."  
  
"Um," Lisa said. "I. Um."  
  
"M?"  
  
"I've never said this before. Um. I'm gay."  
  
"Oh," Padma said. "So am I, but it doesn't actually mean-"  
  
"Shit," said Lisa. "What if we [I]did[/I]?"  
  
"We should go ask someone," Padma said.  
  
"Hullo, Professor Dumbledore," Lisa queried pleasantly. "Since you're so wise and all-knowing and everything, I was wondering if you could recap Padma Patil's and my nocturnal activities yesterday... You ought to sit down, you know. You're making me nervous."  
  
Padma sat down, nervously. "I... Maybe there was someone in the room, at the time."  
  
"P'raps," said Lisa. "But if they were, and we were, and they were watching, I'd really rather not know."  
...  
"What an adorable question," Cho Chang said, beaming. "My girlfriend and I used to be like you. All innocent and shit. We blushed all the time. It was funny." She appeared to be somewhat high.  
  
"I suppose," Lisa said. "Only, y'know, except we're [I]not[/I] girlfriends. And she's making me ask you. Because she's [I]childish[/I]." She glared at Padma, who was chewing her fingernails.  
  
"Aww," Cho said. "You weren't, that I could see. It was really sweet though. When my girlfriend and I started you were talking- I think you were crying, actually- and by the time we'd finished you were just sleeping. It was precious."  
  
"Oh yay," Padma said suddenly. "You mean we [I]didn't[/I]? I feel so pure."  
  
"You shouldn't be." Cho giggled suddenly. "My God. Thank God for Invisibility Cloaks, that's all I'm saying. Even with it we must've been giving off an aura of corruption and filth." She grinned at them.  
  
"How odd," Lisa said.  
  
"Not really," said Cho. "Would you like to join the Hogwarts GSA? We're not [I]all[/I] corrupted- I mean, we are, but it's a fun kind of corruption. You're all lamblike now, we'll save you."  
  
"No, thank you," Padma said. She smiled politely and swallowed bile.  
...  
"I feel a bit fulfilled, don't you?" Lisa said. "I dunno. And extremely out-of-character. 'S just, y'know. I like getting my facts straight."  
  
"Really?" Padma said. "I much prefer them same-gender-oriented."  
  
Lisa smiled, a bit serenely. They were meditating together to escape Mandy and Jack; they'd somehow developed a bond. "It's just nice. I'm gay. You're gay. We didn't shag like bunny rabbits."  
  
"There's the last thing, though," Padma said. "Whether we like each other. You know what would've been really funny?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"If we [/I]did[I] like each other. All along. Or most of it. If that was what yelling at each other about our hair about."  
  
"Or if my hating you was just sexual tension."  
  
"Or if we took butterbeer and cinnamon just because we hoped we might shag like bunny rabbits."  
  
"Like I'd ever like you that much."  
  
"I'm not that unlikeable."  
  
"You are. You're annoying."  
  
"Am not."  
  
"You oppress people. I [I]heard[/I] you."  
  
"Git."  
  
"Hippogriff."  
  
"Bunny-squasher."  
  
"Please. Bite me."  
  
Pause.  
  
"I didn't mean literally."  
...  
I... I tried. I really tried. 'S not very good, but there [I]is[/I] only one chapter to go.  
In case you care, the Hogwarts GSA was going to consist of Draco(gay), Blaise Zabini(transgendered), Ginny, Cho, and Alicia Spinnet(bi), Ron(questioning), and Katie Bell(lesbian). But I didn't feel like using them. Someone with better writing skills than me should steal the idea. Please?  
  
Elektra- thank you for reviewing. I do ship both L/Ps, of course, but I'm not sure how they would've fit in here. Are they in your fic? ::looks:: ::giggles:: Oh, a parody, how sweet. ::abandons her review-answerings for a while:: Okay, I'm back. Liked your fic. :)  
  
Melody- thank you for reviewing. "Happiness Is A Warm Gun." [I]She's not a girl who misses much- she's well-accustomed to the touch of a hand like a lizard on a windowpane.[/I] You're obsessed just like me- how nice. Anya's one of my many significant others, including early!Willow, evil!Willow, brainless!Tara, [I]Never-Leave-Me[/I]!Willow, Christlike!Jonathan, singing!Tara, crazy!Spike, and Little Goth Girl from matazone.uk.co.  
  
The Elusive Cucumber- thank you for reviewing. What an adorable screenname you have. Yes, they do.  
  
Preserve Our Jam- thank you for reviewing. I can't really give you a good answer, because I liked your review so much. So perhaps I am a four-headed purple baboon as well.  
  
Anna Maria- thank you for reviewing. Yes, you may.  
  
Chisakami- thank you for reviewing. No, Tammy-the-obsessive-lesbian from-[I]Election[/I]. I stole your idea, how cool is that? ::muses:: No, actually I'm a pretty bad person now. ::mopes::  
  
Dala- thank you for reviewing. Aren't you nice...  
  
Wow. I'm done. One more and I'll have 50 reviews. ::considers writing one herself:: 


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